Totally realizing just how late this is for a coda, but also totally hoping that it's still okay. I'm still working on my multi-chapter stories, and hopefully, another chapter to both of those will be along shortly. Hope you enjoy the story.
Dean heard the gunshot, and for the first time in so many years, he flinched. This wasn't going to end well, not for his Sammy. He knew it was over now, though, and instead of waiting in the kitchen like Sam had told him, he walked out into the living room, where Sam had just killed the only woman that he had let into his life in almost two years. Her body was leaning back on the couch, and Sam stood there, completely still, the gun still clenched in his hands, body frozen. He stared straight ahead, at the body. Quickly, Dean crossed the room, and grabbed Sam. He wavered a little, swayed like a balloon in the wind, but his forward glance didn't move. Dean tried to take the gun from his hands, and instead of the tight grip that he figured Sam would have, his fingers released the gun bonelessly. This was all it took to break Sam. He moved forward, trying to hold her dead body in his arms, and Dean's protectiveness struck. There was no way that he wanted Sam's fingerprints on the body. They already needed to hurry up and get out of here before the cops came. She lived in an apartment building. There had to be neighbors all around them...except for next door, because Glenn was dead now. One of them had to have called the police, and so they needed to get out of here. He turned Sam around, pushing him towards the door. He froze up, and it caused him to stumble on his feet, but Dean kept pushing, seeing the bigger goal.
Dean kept one arm around Sam the whole way to the Impala. He was shell shocked, and kept staring at his hands. There wasn't a doubt in Dean's mind that Sam didn't even know where he was, what was going on around him. So, it came as a surprise when he was helping his brother into the passenger side, for Sam to suddenly jerk in his arms and start scrubbing at his hands. Dean pushed him all of the way into the car, and slammed the door behind him, not wanting what was about to happen to be so public. "There's blood...there's blood all over my hands, Dean. It's all over my hands." He said in a panicked voice, the words tumbling out. It was the first human he had ever had to kill. Sure, she was a werewolf, but she wasn't. She was as human as he was, and yet, he had needed to shoot her.
"There's no blood, man. It's all right." Dean said, and knew right away that those were the wrong words, when Sam immediately shut up, but turned his head away from him and started crying. He took a deep breath, not knowing what to do with what was happening to Sam. They drove in silence for a little bit, neither saying a word, and for the first time, Dean didn't even have the radio on. When they passed the sign welcoming them to Nevada, Dean started looking for hotels. He needed to get Sam somewhere quiet, calm, and private. There was a little motel building, a single floor building that wrapped around in a circle, and a faltering sign that definitely said "Vacancy." He got out of the car and left Sam sitting there, only planning to be in there for a moment. The hotel manager gave him a key and told him the room number, after making sure that he got their credit information, but Dean didn't care. All that while, he kept eyeing his brother, who still sat, staring at his hands. When he turned back, after having to sign the ticket for the manager, his heart came to a complete halt. Sam wasn't sitting in the car anymore. He was gone. Before Dean had the chance to worry, the hotel manager spoke up. "What is he doing? Is that boy with you?" Disgust could be heard in his voice, but for the first time, Dean didn't care. He had a clear view of Sam.
"Yeah, he's kind of...drunk. You know, one too many?" Dean joked, and made the gesture for drinking and snickered. The man, luckily, shook his head and waved Dean off to go take care of him.
"Hey, Sammy." Dean said softly, treading lightly, crouching down by where Sam was washing his hands in a puddle. "What are you doing?"
"I can't get it off. I can't get the blood off." He murmured, and kept trying to scrub at his hands. Dean moved down, got onto his knees next to Sam on the ground, and took his brother's hands in his own.
"It's not there, Sammy. It's all right. You're fine." He said, in a whisper, getting as close to Sam's head as possible. Sam turned guilty eyes toward him for a second, before letting them fall to some place on the ground Dean didn't see. He nodded, though, and allowed Dean to guide him along, to their hotel room.
Once they had gotten in, Dean took the coat off of Sam, and started to slowly take off his clothing that wasn't necessary. Sam was eerily still as he took off his boots, placing them one next to the other on the ground. When the right shoe hit the linoleum lining where the carpet ended, Sam jumped, shuttered, and broke down in tears, folding in on himself. "Shh, it's all right, Sammy." Dean murmured, resolving himself to the fact that this was going to be a long night.
Breaking away from Dean in his misery, Sam swung his legs over and laid down. He had curled up in a tight ball on the hotel bed, not even bothering to lay his head on the pillow, trying to make himself as small as his 6'4" frame would allow him. Sobs wracked his whole body, and for a few moments, Dean feared that he was going to start hyperventilating. "Shh, Sammy. I'm here, and it's going to be all right. I'm going to take care of you." He whispered these words, and wasn't entirely sure if Sammy even heard him. The sobs quieted, but didn't stop, and so he did the one thing he could think of that would calm Sammy, had always calmed Sammy. Getting close behind Sam, he wrapped his body as close to him as he could, dragging the pillow closer to Sam and placing it under his head, making him accept the comfort that the small object would offer. Then, clearing everything else out of his way, he drew Sammy close to his chest, and wrapped one arm tightly around him, holding him and breathing softly in his ear. He tucked his own head in, trying to get as close as he could, so that he could try to take Sam's pain on himself. Slowly, barely realizing that he was doing it, Dean started slowly and soothingly rocking them, and singing lowly that song that his mother had sung a long time ago. It was the same lullaby that had always calmed Sammy when he was sick or when he had woken up scared after a nightmare. It had always done the trick, and even though he knew it would take a lot more to make Sammy better after Maddie, he sang it out of a necessity to make things simple again.
The two of them laid there like that for over an hour, before Sam's voice broke the reverie. "I'm sorry," he said it quietly, but Dean heard him anyways. He was trying to decide whether to ask why he was sorry or keep quiet, when Sam continued. "I really liked her, and allowed myself to feel with her. I'm so afraid that if I let them in, they'll be hurt...and now, I know."
Dean sighed. "It wasn't your fault. She was a werewolf before we even got there, man. You did her the biggest favor by killing her."
"I'm sorry, Dean." he was silent again, and Dean almost hoped that he wouldn't speak again. There weren't too many things that Sam could still be sorry for. He didn't need the parallel to their own situation thrown into the mix tonight. "I never should have asked you to kill me if I go evil."
"That's not going to happen, Sammy. I'm not going to let it. There wasn't anything that would have saved Maddie, but I'm going to save you. No matter what, neither of us will ever have to kill you." He made the promise, the oath, again and truly meant it in his heart. He wasn't ever going to have to do to Sam what was done to Maddie tonight. Not ever. "Lay down, Sammy, and try to sleep. I'll be here in the morning." Sam leaned back on him and closed his eyes. In the morning, they would deal with things. And in the morning, he would prove to Sam that he was not going to turn evil, no matter what his conscience said.
Hope you enjoyed the story. Feel free to review any way that you'd like, whether it be constructive criticism, question, or praise. Happy hunting.